


Flowers in your hair

by sunandmoon



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flower Child Harry, M/M, Punk Louis, Punk!Louis, flower crown harry - Freeform, flowercrown!harry, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunandmoon/pseuds/sunandmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis gives Harry a tattoo. Harry gives Louis feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers in your hair

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first official piece of Larry work I post!  
> Woo!
> 
> (I know you might feel the urge to run and hide from new Larry writers, but please realize I worked super hard on this and would love for you to check it out.)
> 
> I love you all! Enjoy.

“Louis, you’ve got a customer.”

Louis’ head snapped up at the sound of the small bells above the tattoo parlors entrance door jingling, nodding at his receptionist.  
He walked out to the front desk, and took a double take when his eye caught on the boy standing in front of him.

“Hi!” The boy sang happily, slightly extending the “I”. Louis accepted his extended arm, his hand shaking the boy’s firmly. “I’m Harry. Nice to meet ya,” he giggled. His big emerald-colored eyes looked into Louis eyeliner contoured baby blues, sparkling with delight. His lips were a natural shade of blood red, and he had thick curls atop his head, ringlets contouring his soft face. He was absolutely stunning, but that’s not what caught Louis off guard. _The boy was wearing a fucking flower crown_. Something Louis had never seen, especially in his little underground tattoo shop. Lying above his curls was a perfectly twisted crown of flower stems, topped with soft pink rose petals, scattered all over his chocolate colored hair. 

Louis cleared his throat, watching Harry’s eyes scan his body. His eyes were slightly crinkled by the sides from smiling so hard, taking in Louis’ exposed arms, chest and neck, dipped in black ink.

“Cool tattoos. Really cool.” He finally spoke, the deep dimples carve into his cheeks leaving Louis weak. 

“Thanks. Do you have an appointment?” He asked, fiddling with the reception desk’s appointment list, distracting himself from the heat he felt rushing to his fair skin, his cheeks as red as his dyed quiff-styled hair.

“No,” Harry said, looking at his feet, a genuine smile still played across his lips. “You see, I kind of decided I was going to get a tattoo about twenty minutes ago. So I kind of just dropped in.”

Louis’ heart went out the boy, his eyes softening. He knew how it felt to instinctively decide to get a tattoo last minute; it was like a feeling you needed to get out. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I haven’t got anything to do for a few hours ‘nyways.” Louis nodded at Harry, indicating him to follow him into the back room. Harry trailed behind Louis, skipping like some sort of princess. Louis smiled to himself, completely taken by the boy’s odd yet enjoyable enthusiasm. 

Harry took a seat as Louis brought out a few papers.

“D’you even know what you want, kid?” 

“Of course I do, silly.” Harry giggled, his presence making the painted black room suddenly seem warm and happy. “May I?” He said, his head nudging towards Louis’ sketchbook.  
“Yeah, okay.” He passed Harry the sketchbook and a pencil, and Harry began to draw out his tattoo, still smiling. His tongue stuck out slightly in concentration, and Louis sat back and wondering how someone could make you feel completely warm inside in the matter of two minutes. 

Once Harry let out a small, satisfied “hmph” about 15 minutes into silence as Louis was preparing his tools. Harry handed Louis back his sketchbook, his confident smile slightly shrinking into a bashful one. Louis’ eyes scanned over the drawing, observing Harry’s talented art skills. 

Harry’s drawing was of a flower blossom with slightly pink petals. Underneath it, was a quote saying “I can’t change…” in oddly beautiful writing.

 

He felt the flower child’s eyes linger on his face as he looked up, almost gasping from the beautiful boy with big watery eyes full of hope and everything good in the world, a few stray curls and petals lightly falling in his eyes. It took everything in Louis to hold back from pushing away his loose strands of hair.

“So?” Harry smiled hopefully. “What do you think, Louis?” 

“How’d you know my name?”

“Erm, your name tag? Oh, Louis..” Harry found this hilarious, nearly tumbling over in laughter, clutching his stomach. Louis’ tongue fiddled with his cold metal lip ring, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment. As he watched Harry giggle his little arse off, he couldn’t help but let out a few titters, and realized it had been a while since he had been able to laugh at himself, or at all for that matter. 

“Yeah, right.” Louis’ let out a nervous chuckle, his muscular, inked arm stretched out behind his neck, scratching his head. “I think it’s nice. The tattoo, I mean.”

Harry pointed towards his left hip, telling Louis that’s where he wanted it. Louis nodded, lightly pulling up the flower child’s thin white t-shirt, swallowing hard. As he began to trace out the tattoo, he noticed Harry snickering lightly, his hand cupping his grin that was far too wide to hide.

“What’s so funny, Harry?” Louis asked with a small smile. 

“I dunno,” Harry admitted, sighing happily. “Everything.” 

Louis nodded, understanding yet not at the same time.

Harry watched as Louis’ eyebrows knit together, drawing the flower on his skin with precise detailing, making sure it was nothing less than perfect. He liked Louis. He liked the way he looked at him differently, in delight instead of in disgust like the others did. “What a faggot,” other men their age would say. He felt as if he and Louis had a silent acceptance of each other. And boy, did he like that. 

“Are you happy with it?” Louis asked, waking Harry from his day dream. He nearly screeched with delight at the sight of his perfectly drawn flower and quote in the small mirror Louis had handed him. 

“It’s beautiful, Lou. I love it! Is it okay if I call you Lou?”

“Sure..” Louis mumbled nervously, butterflies swarming his stomach.

Louis kneeled by the chair Harry was in as he perfected his drawing, his face besides Harry’s. Harry sighed happily once again, ripping a sweet pink rose from his crown and placing it into Louis’ flaming red hair. 

Louis’ head shot up in surprise, looking deep into Harry’s eyes. 

“You don’t mind, do you, Lou? If I put flowers in your hair, I mean.” Louis didn’t respond. Instead, he watched Harry’s eyes, not understanding what he was feeling. “I think you should feel beautiful too. I know you’re full of tattoos and ink and piercings, but it doesn’t mean you can’t wear flowers in your hair. Everyone should, actually.” Harry smiled, his tone so sure of himself and of everything.

Louis cleared his throat, nodding in agreement. “I agree, Harry,” he stated coolly, although his heart was racing. He tucked the rose comfortably behind his ear, his face lighting up  
for the first time in years. “I do feel kind of beautiful,” he admitted, smiling just as wide as Harry. “Thanks.”

And just like that, Harry opened up the coldest, most reserved punk he will ever meet. 

With a grin still on Louis’ lips, a sharp buzzing echoed throughout the room, his needle piercing through Harry’s skin, permanently inking him. He heard Harry suck his teeth in aggravation, although he was still smiling, just as usual.

“You okay Harry?” 

“Yeah, yeah. It just tickles. In a really painful kind of way. Louis?” Harry asked, his voice slightly shaky. “D’you think we can talk? To, you know, distract me from the pain?”  
Louis nodded, half listening as Harry went on and on about his passion for flowers. The other half was concentrated on Harry’s tattoo, promising himself to make it the most beautiful tattoo Harry will ever have, because he deserved it. 

“You know,” Harry went on. “I collect flowers. Sounds weird, doesn’t it? I put flowers in glass frames and put them around my room. They start changing and drying up, and I end up throwing them out and making room for new ones, but it’s really cool to watch. You know?”

Louis didn’t know, he really didn’t. But something about Harry’s story captivated him, leaving Louis desperately wanting to. 

“That’s amazing.” Louis was never a man of many words, but when he said something, he really did mean it. And Harry could tell he did, too. 

“I guess it is.” Harry giggled, biting on his puffy bottom lip. “Hey, Lou? How come you haven’t asked me about my tattoo? Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Harry asked, sticking out his tongue between his teeth.

“Because, Harry,” Louis stopped tattooing for a moment and looked up at his face, once again taking in his soft features. “I don’t know you all that well, you see? Usually, my customers have extremely personal reasons as to why they get a certain tattoo. And when you don’t know somebody, my questioning their tattoos might be an invasion of privacy to them.” Louis sighed, pushing his beanie back. “Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“Yeah, I do,” Harry said, his eyes gleaming. “I wouldn’t mind if you asked me.”

“Okay then. So, what does this tattoo mean to you?” Louis asked, smiling. 

“I’ll tell you soon.”

Louis’ eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. Instead, he went back to tattooing, and half an hour later, Harry’s dream tattoo was complete.

“Ahhh!” Harry shrieked happily, jumping around like the happy flower child that Louis learned to enjoy within the hour. “It’s perfect, Lou! Absolutely perfect.” Harry leaped in front  
of Louis, yanking his cheek to his lips. “You are absolutely perfect!”

Louis chuckled, rubbing his blushing cheek. “It’s no problem, really. And it’s on the house. You were good company.”

Harry kissed him again, not caring that he knew was kissing a man he knew for a total of an hour.

As Louis’ arm reached to open the door knob, Harry stopped him. “Wait! I still haven’t told you why I chose this as my tattoo.”

Louis nodded, being too afraid to bring it up again himself. He sat back on his stool, watching Harry. 

“Tell me, Harry.” Louis smiled, curiously watching Harry’s face contort from giddy to a soft smile. 

“Well, I put some flowers because flowers are my life!” Harry stated obviously. He pushed some loose curls back into his crown before going on. “I collect flowers. I wear flowers in my hair every day. What else would I want scarred on my body for the rest of my life than something that is a part of me?” 

Louis nodded, urging Harry to go on.

“And some people, well actually, most people, think that’s weird. That it’s “queer”, or “gay”, or that I’m a “faggot”. Well, what’s wrong with being gay? How can someone establish me as a queer because I like flowers, and I like to feel pretty? I’m not anything, in case you were wondering. I like what I like, and I’d rather not be labeled as a faggot for being open minded. I love everything, Louis. I know there is bad in this world, but I also know there’s a lot of good. Lots of it. And I love it. I love the sun and I love flowers and I love boys and girls and cities and buildings and pretty music and people who walk by me on the street and people who stand behind me in line at convenience stores and even my tattoo artist.” Louis blushed at his last comment, smiling crookedly at Harry. “And I can’t change. I won’t change. I love me and I love everything and I will never change. I will always me and not a word anyone says can ever change. I love who I am although 98% of people who meet me are freaked out by me. I don’t care. I’m happy. And I can’t change.” 

Louis couldn’t help but feel his eyes grow wet at the feelings flooding Harry’s voice as he spoke, being no longer just the boy with a crown made out of flowers, but somehow having a wise soul and the heart of a child. There was nothing that could stop this boy and Louis found it not only inspiring, but the most amazing thing he’s ever heard. Here Harry was, pouring his heart out to him yet still managing to be happy with everything, a smile still illuminating his face. And that was beyond perfect in Louis’ eyes. 

This time, he did not hold back. Louis couldn’t stop himself from grabbing Harry’s soft face in his hands, his thumb lightly stroking his cheek as he pressed his thin pink lips against own Harry’s plump ones, pressing hard until he felt his lips go numb.

Harry opened his eyes, confused and curious, as he raised his fingers to his mouth, his swollen lips stretching out into his biggest smile yet.

Louis pulled out the rose from behind his ear, placing it behind Harry’s this time. “You deserve to feel beautiful. Because you are, Harry. You’re fucking beautiful.”

 

_Fin of Part 1_

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know there was no smut.
> 
> But, if this gets enough praise, there will be a sequel to this story. And lots, I mean LOTS, of smut. So I think it's worth acknowledging, don't you?
> 
> So you better get to leaving me comments and letting me know what you think!
> 
> X


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